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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578995">Indelible</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseHarperMaxwell/pseuds/RoseHarperMaxwell'>RoseHarperMaxwell</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthday Fluff, Birthday Sex, Child-free by choice, Committed Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Long-Term Relationship(s), Magical Tattoos, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Tattoos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:01:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseHarperMaxwell/pseuds/RoseHarperMaxwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside, Hermione bypassed the wooden desk at the front completely and led me toward the back of the small shop. The walls held framed prints of tattoos, some still and some clearly magical. My eyes fixed on an inked serpent peering up between two scandalously naked breasts, tongue flickering out intermittently. </p>
<p>“Are you sure we’re supposed to just walk right in?” Was artwork like this even allowed on Diagon Alley? This felt more like Knockturn.</p>
<p>“Yes, they’re expecting us.” She paused outside the door. “Now, listen. I’d like you to keep an open mind about the tattoo artist and not react…hastily.”</p>
<p>“Oi, bring him in already!” The unmistakable voice of Ron Weasley cut through the door.</p>
<p>Hermione intertwined her fingers with mine before I could escape.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Draimone Fics, Good Girl Hermione, Happy Birthday Mr. Malfoy, Stories I’m In Love With</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I meant to have this up for Draco's birthday, but it's a day late. Oops! </p>
<p>In the interest of time, I split it in two and the second part will post on my own birthday on Monday after I finish editing. The first part could stand alone, so if you're not a fan of the more explicit tags, you can skip chapter two.</p>
<p>I took liberties with Harry's tattoos and placements, but some of the ones mentioned are very inspired by Avendell's recent artwork depicting the hot tatted up Harry I never knew I always needed. <br/><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CBBSdX0gKiF/">Avendell Art</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>I let her tug me down Diagon, chuckling at her eagerness. I still expect people to stare and point at us, but after two decades, people mostly seem to ignore us now. “Please don’t tell me my early birthday present is coming from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Granger.”</p>
<p>She grinned back at me, all rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Oh, you don’t want the pygmy puff I picked out for you? I chose the bounciest, happiest one, and named it Twinkles.” She laughed at the look on my face and pulled my arm harder. “Come on! We’re nearly there. It’s around back.”</p>
<p>Around the corner was tucked a small storefront, black and glass, minimalist in design. If it had been there long, I’d never noticed it before. It couldn’t have looked more out of place next to the glaringly bright joke shop. A sign in the window was aglow, fashioned from tubes like the ones in the muggle pubs where I still take Hermione on dates sometimes. “Indelible?”</p>
<p>She nodded at me, her glee barely contained. “Yes. I made you an appointment. We’re getting your tattoo!”</p>
<p>I planted my feet, unbothered by the others on the cobblestone path who stopped short and shifted around us. “Now hold on, Granger. I’m…not sure I’m ready. I’m still thinking about it. Besides, I thought you were going to research it and find the best artist. This place looks like it popped up overnight.”</p>
<p>Hermione placed her hands on her hips and fixed me with an obstinate stare. Merlin. Not the first time I’d seen that look, and based on past experience, she was about to let me know why she was right and I just needed to do what she said.</p>
<p>“Draco Malfoy. You are almost forty years old. You’ve abhorred that dark mark on your arm for more than half your life now. More than half your life! You’re tired of glamouring it. And I’m tired of hearing that you’ll get around to covering it ‘someday.’ Today is that day.”</p>
<p>She relaxed her stance, stepped into me, and wrapped her arms around my waist. I felt her doing the deep breathing she tried to make me practice – all the way in, and all the way out. I could hear her voice in my head telling me how it instantly calms your nervous system.</p>
<p>When she actually spoke again, she was quieter. “I know you’ve thought about what you want. And this is the best place - trust me. You’re at least going to have a consultation and take the next step, or you’ll procrastinate until I’m pushing you to get it done in celebration of your fiftieth birthday.”</p>
<p>I stiffened at that and gave her my most withering glare.</p>
<p>“You know I’m right. Come on.”</p>
<p>Inside, Hermione bypassed the wooden desk at the front completely and led me toward the back of the small shop. The walls held framed prints of tattoos, some still and some clearly magical. My eyes fixed on an inked serpent peering up between two scandalously naked breasts, tongue flickering out intermittently. </p>
<p>“Are you sure we’re supposed to just walk right in?” Was artwork like this even allowed on Diagon Alley? This felt more like Knockturn.</p>
<p>“Yes, they’re expecting us.” She paused outside the door. “Now, listen. I’d like you to keep an open mind about the tattoo artist and not react…hastily.”</p>
<p>“Oi, bring him in already!” The unmistakable voice of Ron Weasley cut through the door.</p>
<p>Hermione intertwined her fingers with mine before I could escape.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It’s a testament to how much I love my witch that I found myself sitting on a bench inside the small room, accompanied by not just Weasley but Harry Potter himself. We may have developed a grudging friendship out of mutual respect for Hermione, but that didn't mean I would entertain the idea of allowing one of them to permanently mar my flesh.</p>
<p>“So Ron does still work with George occasionally, but he’s been apprenticing for ages with both muggle and magical tattoo artists. I haven’t told you because I wanted this to be a surprise. He’s really brilliant at it, honestly. None of us even knew he had this talent, but all the art in the lobby is his work, plus everything in this portfolio. Every artist he worked with wanted him to stay on in their shop – one even offered to partner with him! But Harry helped him build this space so he can be near George and make it his own. And he’s agreed to do your tattoo as a birthday gift for you.” Hermione had her hands clasped hopefully as she wound down her rambling sales pitch.</p>
<p>I flipped through the pages of the portfolio perfunctorily, though the quality of the work wasn’t my biggest concern. I could scarcely focus on it, though what I could see did seem fine. For as much as I knew about tattoos - which was very little, besides the fact that the one on my left arm was the biggest mistake of my life.</p>
<p>“I’m sure Weasley doesn't really want to tattoo me, Hermione. I’m sure this was more a gift for you.” I gestured to the book in front of me. “This is all lovely, but I’m certain we could find someone with less...shared history and not take up Weasley’s clearly valuable time.” I propped an ankle on one knee, mentally patted myself on the back for my magnanimity, and prayed Weasley would take the out I was giving both him and myself.</p>
<p>“You’re right that it is mostly for Hermione. But I can’t lie – I’m getting some satisfaction from knowing that every time you look at the tattoo, you’ll remember that I’m the one who did it.” Weasley’s smug face was still so punchable sometimes.</p>
<p>My mind scrambled for another excuse, and seized on a petty, unfounded one. “How do I even know these pictures are his? Anyone could have done them.”</p>
<p>Potter piped up then – a wonder the world had kept on turning without his input for five minutes – and interrupted Weasley’s indignant sputtering. “It’s all his work, Malfoy.” He began turning up the cuffs of his shirt, showing off heavily inked sleeves on both arms. “I volunteered to be his first live canvas, and Hermione’s right – he really is brilliant at it.”</p>
<p>I peered at the splashes of colorful and black markings, noting a phoenix, a snowy white owl, and a ruby-encrusted blade amid what seemed to be organized chaos. “Sword of Gryffindor, Potter?” I couldn’t stop the brow lift, but I swear I tried not to sneer. For Hermione, who was watching intently.</p>
<p>“It served me well on more than one occasion.” Potter had no shame, even after all these years. “Anyway, it’s all Ron’s earliest work.”</p>
<p>I was running out of reasons to put this off. “What about you, Hermione? You’ve talked about covering your scar as well. Why don’t you look like Potter here yet?”</p>
<p>She was ready for me, of course. “I plan on just starting with one, and I’m almost finished with the design, but it will be a surprise. For you.”</p>
<p>My brain couldn’t come up with anything else to say. I paused a moment too long.</p>
<p>At my hesitation, Hermione’s face turned hopeful and she proceeded cautiously. “Tell them some of the ideas you’ve thought of, Draco.”</p>
<p>I sighed deeply. Deep breath - all the way in, all the way out. Apparently, this conversation was happening. “Well. I’ve thought maybe something for my mother. Narcissus, obviously, but her favorite flower is actually lily of the valley. Maybe both of those.”</p>
<p>Weasley and Potter stared at each other for a moment, and then Weasley burst into laughter while Potter tried to stifle his behind a fist.</p>
<p>Before I could get up and leave – because honestly, why would I stay – Potter reached out toward me as if to keep me in my seat, and then began unbuttoning the collar of his shirt.</p>
<p>“Merlin, Potter. I didn’t come here to watch you take your clothes off. Or to be laughed at.”</p>
<p>“Just look, Malfoy.” He pointed at a cluster of flowers and vines on his chest, over his heart. “We weren’t laughing at you. It’s just – this. Lily of the valley, for my mother. Narcissus, for yours.”</p>
<p>I don’t know if I was more surprised by the fact that Potter had a tattoo for my mother or that he had the same idea I did, but I said the first thing that came to mind. “And the vine?”</p>
<p>He gave Hermione the smile I’d only ever seen him give her. The one I wanted to be annoyed by, but that was clearly only full of brotherly love. “It’s for Hermione, just like her wand.”</p>
<p>He returned his focus to me. “This was my first tattoo. It’s for the three women who’ve saved my life – my mum, when I was a baby, of course. Your mother when I thought I was going to die, and at great risk to herself. And Hermione, who’s saved me over and over through the years.”</p>
<p>I felt oddly touched that Potter had a tribute to my mother, and that he held her in esteem with Hermione and his own mother. Forgetting myself, I stood to look more closely at the design, and found myself much closer to Potter’s bare chest than I ever would have expected.</p>
<p>The colors were vivid, the outlines intricate and detailed. They looked exactly like the flowers that had grown in the garden at the manor.</p>
<p>Damn. Weasley really did do decent work. Finally good at something, I suppose.</p>
<p>“That’s...it’s actually really nice, Potter.”</p>
<p>He eyed me warily and began buttoning his shirt back up. Weasley seemed to have gotten hold of himself. “It’s not as if you’re the first ones to ever have the same flowers tattooed – I can change the style a bit, or the colors…”</p>
<p>I settled back on the bench and waved him off. “No, I like that. Just like Potter’s.” I could practically feel the warmth of the smile coming from Hermione’s direction. I basked in it. “The vines, too.”</p>
<p>The other two in the room stared stupidly at each other. “Are you sure, Malfoy?” Weasley asked tentatively. “You know it’s permanent, right?”</p>
<p>“That is the meaning of indelible, is it not?” I scoffed and started rolling up my left sleeve to reveal the faded mark I’d imagined cutting out of my own flesh hundreds of times. Hermione found me the one time I actually tried it, and her dittany and genuine despair healed me enough to stop me from trying it again. “I’m guessing you didn’t come up with the name yourself.”</p>
<p>“I might have made some suggestions.” Hermione scooted closer and placed a hand on my arm. “Are you sure? You don’t have to actually do it today. I just wanted to nudge you a step toward it. If you want to take some time to think about it, we can schedule something-“</p>
<p>“I’m ready. Where do we do this?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>When it was all over, I had to hand it to Weasley. He’d been methodical and meticulous, the consummate professional. It was clear he had truly found his calling. I’d certainly never seen him look less bumbling and more confident doing anything else before.</p>
<p>The prickling sensation wasn’t so bad, and it was nothing compared to the original branding of dark magic. I actually felt fantastic by the time it was finished. Hermione helpfully informed me that the euphoric feeling I experienced was from the endorphins my body was releasing. I kissed the tip of her swotty little nose for it.</p>
<p>While Hermione took notes about Weasley’s aftercare instructions, I peered closely at the finished work and tuned everything else out. I admired the cream and golden tones of narcissus paired with the delicate white blooms of lily of the valley, the bright green stems and leaves, and the warm strength of the interwoven vine wood. It was truly a work of art.</p>
<p>I looked hard for any trace of the dark mark, the constant reminder of my regret, and found none. I knew it would always be visible when I closed my eyes, of course. It haunted my dreams, and I suspected that wouldn't change just because it was covered up. But outwardly, the shameful symbol of loyalty to a madman was erased. It was an enormous weight lifted. I wasn’t sure what had taken me so long.</p>
<p>Weasley handed Hermione a small bottle, and I pulled my eyes away from my new tattoo. I stuck my hand out, and he stared at me for a moment before shaking it firmly. Then I shook Potter’s, too.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Weasley. I should have done this a long time ago, but I think it makes Hermione happy that you did it, so I guess the timing is right.”</p>
<p>Hermione pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek, and I knew she was pleased with my grand gesture. I watched her follow Potter to the lobby, where he started talking to her about the different kinds of wood he’d framed the pictures with.</p>
<p>I eyed Weasley. “You don’t have a tribute to Hermione tattooed on you anywhere, do you?”</p>
<p>“Just the marks she’s left on my heart.” He smirked at my glare. “Kidding, mate. Only kidding. No heart-outlined ‘Hermione” inked on me anywhere. We all know she’s yours, Malfoy, and if she hasn’t gotten rid of you yet, you’re probably sticking.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>When I returned to Indelible a week later, I was better prepared. I’d been doing some research.</p>
<p>Potter was there, using a level on a framed picture, making tiny adjustments. He was quite focused and didn’t notice me at first, but Ron looked up from the desk where he sat, sketching. “Malfoy. What’re you doing here?”</p>
<p>“Hello, Weasley. I have an issue with my tattoo.”</p>
<p>Ron’s eyes narrowed, and he looked over his shoulder at Potter, who set his level down and came to the rescue, as Potter does. “What’s the trouble, Malfoy?”</p>
<p>“Merlin, Potter, why are you using that? Do you still forget you’re a wizard sometimes? Why are you always here, anyway?” I felt irked without Hermione as a soothing buffer.</p>
<p>“I like working with my hands,” he said benignly. “Why are you here, Malfoy?”</p>
<p>“I’m here because I’m not happy having the same tattoo as you anymore.” That’s a good opening, I thought. Let Weasley sweat a bit.</p>
<p>They both seemed to relax a bit, but Weasley stared at me incredulously. “Well, I’m not sure what to tell you. They’re permanent, remember?”</p>
<p>I pulled a small piece of parchment from my pocket and placed it on the desk. “Of course it’s permanent. The tattoo itself is fine. I’m just not happy with it being <em> exactly </em> the same design. I want to add this to mine.”</p>
<p>They both hunched over the desk to examine my request.</p>
<p>“A butterfly?” Potter worked very hard to keep his tone even, I could tell. “You don’t like having the same tattoo as me, so you want to add a <em> butterfly </em>?”</p>
<p>I cleared my throat, unsure why I suddenly felt a bit embarrassed. “It’s not <em> just </em> a butterfly. It’s called Hipparchia hermione. I’d like to add it, and I want it to be charmed to be able to…flutter about. Magically.”</p>
<p>Potter snickered. “Really getting into wearing your heart on your sleeve, Malfoy. What, is an otter too on-the-nose?”</p>
<p>I rubbed the back of my neck. My softness for my witch didn't do my prickly reputation any favors. But Hermione would probably be touched if I showed them. “Bit too whimsical for a tattoo. Besides…”</p>
<p>I conjured my patronus, and sent my otter off with a message to Hermione to let her know I was running an errand, but shouldn’t be late. It gracefully swam through the glass storefront and disappeared.</p>
<p>They were speechless, which pleased me greatly. They both talk too much. Finally Potter swallowed hard and said, “Malfoy…wow. That’s sort of rare. Was it ever anything else? And do you know what it means that...yours is the same as hers?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Potter, I’m aware of what it means. It’s always been an otter. We’ve been together for twenty years, and she’s the one who taught me the spell. It shouldn’t be shocking.” Of course my patronus would take the same form as my brilliant witch, who had believed I could conjure one long before I actually could. She was part of all the best memories that made it possible.</p>
<p>“Now...Weasley, about this butterfly. Do you have time now? I’d like it to be done before my birthday dinner tonight so I can surprise Hermione, so we should get on with it.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>We finished up just in time, meaning I didn’t get a chance to talk to Hermione before the party, or show her.</p>
<p>My birthday party was….well, it was. I was turning forty. It’s not exactly something I’d been thrilled about, but it made Hermione happy to celebrate it, so that made me a willing participant. All of our friends were lingering, enjoying the cake (my favorite, a rich chocolate with thick caramel buttercream) and drinking wine, chatting around the fire in the twilight of our backyard.</p>
<p>I was itching to show her the addition to my tattoo, but preferably not with an audience. I wanted everyone to leave. But Hermione had had a few glasses of wine, and was now looking pleasantly sated and a bit sleepy, clearly satisfied with a successful birthday party. I decided she might be relaxed enough not to make a big deal if I showed her, so I waited for a good moment where everyone seemed engrossed in conversation before I tugged her down next to me on the porch swing. I couldn’t count the nights we’d spent on this swing together, but I wouldn’t trade a single one of them.</p>
<p>“Having a good birthday, love?”</p>
<p>“The best birthday ever, thanks to you. I actually have a little gift for you as well.”</p>
<p>She tucked a leg underneath her so she could sit sideways on the swing, facing me expectantly. I rolled my sleeve to reveal the butterfly, which was fluttering lazily from bloom to bloom. It was truly lovely - wings of mottled cream and a rich chocolate brown that matched the precise color of Hermione's eyes. </p>
<p>“It’s a species called Hipparchia hermione,” I said, “and no one has it tattooed on themselves to honor you, except for me.” She laughed at me, but I know she likes me a little bit possessive.</p>
<p>“I had Weasley charm it to respond to my heart rate. I can use a statis on it if I need it to stay still, but otherwise, you’ll always know how my heart beats for you.”</p>
<p>I’ve spent decades getting lost in her eyes, and it happens even in the twilight of our backyard, always. She was silent, but her hand curled around my neck, scratching my scalp lightly, just the way she knows I like. She leaned in and gave me a deep, lingering kiss, followed by three sweet pecks, which she also knows I like. She told me once early on, before we were comfortable saying it out loud in front of anyone else, that I should consider those three pecks a nonverbal declaration. We're well past that now, but I still love our shared secrets, and the parts of her only I get to know.</p>
<p>“I love you, Draco. It’s spectacular. I’ll make sure Ron doesn’t tattoo it on anyone else.”</p>
<p>I tickled her side for that, and she laughed as she batted my fingers away and reached for her own sleeve. “It’s funny, because I have another gift for you, too. I was at Indelible this morning. Remember how I told you I was working on my own design?”</p>
<p>I nodded, and watched as she rolled her sleeve up to reveal what she’d chosen to cover the “mudblood” scar my aunt had tortured her with – the same word her enormous heart had forgiven me for using in my foolish youth. </p>
<p>The word was erased as completely as my dark mark. In its place was a shimmering, opalescent dragon, pearly white against her creamy skin. I was mesmerized by the fine detailing, from the tip of the slightly ridged tail to the proudly lifted snout. Along its undulating body were glowing silver stars, mapping out a constellation I immediately recognized.</p>
<p>I smoothed my fingers over the dragon in disbelief, and it shivered lightly, wings flapping and settling. I’d never seen anything like it. My witch had gotten it for <em> me </em>. She’d all but written my name on her arm, declaring herself mine for the world to see. I could feel the butterfly flitting madly on my own arm, so I showed it to her, watching her warm eyes take it in and feeling as much as hearing her soft chuckle roll over me.</p>
<p>I pressed my forehead to hers, clutching her to me with a handful of curls. “It’s an antipodean opaleye. And…me. It’s my constellation. Merlin, Hermione,” I whispered.</p>
<p>“It’s the most laid-back of the dragons, you know. Practically cuddly. Still capable of being fierce and protective when provoked, but not nearly as dangerous as one might think. And I’m not even going to ask if you like it, because I knew you would.”</p>
<p>I laughed before cupping her face with both hands and pulling her to me, sucking her bottom lip and nipping it, just the way I know she likes. I couldn't leave it at that, though. She tasted wine-soaked and sweet, like the best thing that I'd ever had. My tongue moved against hers. One hand drifted from her cheek to slide down her smooth neck, where I gave her a light squeeze and soothed my thumb over her throat. My lips followed my hand, and I mouthed at her like we were teenagers. She’d make me glamour that in the morning, but she can't deny that I know what she likes.</p>
<p>“Oi! Did you show him? You must have!” Weasley’s irritating voice reminded me we still had a backyard full of guests. He and Potter strolled over as Hermione gently detached me from her neck.</p>
<p>“I should tell you, Malfoy, that I don’t tattoo names of lovers or spouses. It’s not good practice – too much room for regret.”</p>
<p>Potter had his own contribution. “I convinced him he could always add more stars to ruin the constellation if necessary.”</p>
<p>“Nah, I’d just add you and I slaying the dragon.”</p>
<p>I tuned out the two next to us, and looked at Hermione. The firelight reflected in her eyes and made her curls glow, but she radiated beauty from the inside out. I felt a sudden cool shiver down my spine and butterflies in my stomach to match the one on my arm.</p>
<p>Why wasn’t she my wife? Why hadn’t I married this intelligent, gorgeous specimen of humanity years ago? We didn’t want children, that was true. We’d been madly in love since we’d gotten together, and it had never dulled. I’d had a ring in my desk drawer for at least eighteen years, but every time we’d talked about it, we’d always agreed that it was a spectacle and just symbolic and on top of that, not doing it was also a nice “fuck you” to my father. It never seemed to matter to her.</p>
<p>But something about seeing her public, indelible claim of me – at the same time I’d made my own of her – well, I really liked it. It felt right. I felt like strengthening that claim. Adding more symbols. More public declarations that I belonged to her, and she belonged to me. </p>
<p>Suddenly, marrying her mattered a lot to me, and I hoped it mattered to her. </p>
<p>Deep breath all the way in, all the way out.</p>
<p>“Everyone needs to leave now,” I whispered. She nodded.</p>
<p>Potter and Weasley were still yammering on next to us, arguing about whether or not the sword of Gryffindor could slay a dragon. I stood and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Thank you for the tattoos. They’re the most marvelous things I’ve ever seen. I owe you both a lot. You both need to leave now.”</p>
<p>They stared at me, but I moved on through the backyard and raised my voice. “Party’s over! Thank you all for coming. What a lovely birthday. You all need to go now. Good night. We’ll see you soon.”</p>
<p>I placed my hand on Hermione’s dragon, and apparated us straight to our bedroom.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I had her pinned against the wall of our bedroom as soon as we landed, my mouth back exactly where it belonged, sucking kisses against the soft skin of her neck.</p><p>"I want to see it," she said. She unbuttoned and pushed my shirt off, and I unzipped her dress, dropping it to the floor. I felt her lift my arm to examine my tattoo, but my mouth never left her, and the nails of her other hand scratched down my back, making me shiver.</p><p>I pulled myself away for a moment. The butterfly was a dizzying blur and the dragon was moving in a way I could only describe as sensual. Could dragons be sensual? I hoped it could be stilled with a statis charm, too.</p><p>"Wait," I said. "There's something I need to do immediately. Even more important than this, and you know that's saying a lot." She laughed until I accio'd the ring box and dropped to a knee, and then she stared at me with wide eyes.</p><p>We'd talked about it, but I'd never actually <em>tried</em> it. Maybe I should have just tried it a long time ago.</p><p>"I know we don't need this. We never have. It's always been you and me, and it always will." She placed her hands on my shoulders, and the pressure of her touch was more calming and grounding than any deep breathing I'd ever tried.</p><p>"But I want this. I hope you do, too. I love you, Hermione. That has always been and will always be enough for me. But I want to be able to call you my wife. Please marry me."</p><p>She was silent, which was disconcerting. But she placed her hands on my cheeks and pressed three soft kisses to my hair, then angled my head and kissed my forehead the same way. She gently pushed me down into a seated position, and settled herself in my lap. A long kiss, and three more pecks. "Yes, Draco. Let's get married."</p><p>Relief flooded me. I realized I hadn't opened the box. "Here," I said, fumbling with it. "I didn't even show it to you."</p><p>"It doesn't matter," she said, taking it from my hands and setting it aside unopened. She pushed her fingers into my hair, and lavished my neck with some attention of her own, going right for the sweet spot she knows makes me weakest in the knees. "Show me later." She pushed me down into the plush carpet, and grasped my left hand, watching me as she proceeded to suck my ring finger all the way between her sweet lips before releasing it. "Or maybe we'll just get rings tattooed. I think you like tattoos now. Pretty soon you’ll look like Harry."</p><p>I laughed, then groaned at the way she flicked her tongue between my fingers. “Please keep Potter out of our bedroom, love."</p><p>“Mmm," she hummed confirmation. "Yes, sir.”</p><p>The words alone would have been enough, but the tone of her voice made it clear what mood she was in. Soft, sweet. Looking to relax her ever-present control. Eager to please, and even more receptive to praise than usual.</p><p>When she'd first confessed to me some of the things she'd like to try, I was afraid she'd feel like I was demeaning her. Taking her right back to our early days at school. But as Hermione does best, she'd prepared a thorough argument. I couldn’t tell you what it was now, because my brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity, but it had to do with healthy indulgences and safe fantasies and trust and giving up control. Long story short, one "sir" from Hermione, and I could feel myself hardening instantly. It was practically Pavlovian. She’d occasionally taken advantage of it to her amusement in inappropriate locations and at inopportune times over the years.</p><p>This was a perfectly appropriate location. As far as timing… “Are you sure, love? We don’t need to do that tonight. I thought you might want something a little more...sentimental.”</p><p>Still straddling me, she planted her palms on her lace-covered hips. When I noticed the dragon snorting indignantly, I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. That was surely going to get me into trouble in the future.</p><p>“We’re still us, Draco. I don’t need vanilla sex to feel close to you. So unless that’s what you want, I had some different plans for your birthday.”</p><p>That’s my girl. Merlin, I fucking love her. One of my palms grasped a hip, pulling her flush against me, and the other curled around her throat just as firmly.</p><p>“Strip and get on the bed then, witch.”</p><p>Hermione obeyed and shivered as she climbed atop the bed. I suspected it was in anticipation rather than discomfort, but I cast a gentle warming charm before I placed my wand on the dresser and shed the rest of my clothes. I watched her spread herself out carefully, but rather than lying back upon the pillows, she stretched across the bed with her head tilted back over the edge, her voluminous curls a cascading waterfall. The jiggle of her breasts as she maneuvered into place was delicious, and I wanted to tease her nipples with my tongue, but that would wait for now.</p><p>"Did you have another birthday gift you wanted to give me, darling?"</p><p>"Yes, sir." Her dangling curls danced as she nodded. "Please."</p><p>"Please, what?" My cock was throbbing. I knew what she was going to say. This was about her desire to give up control and take direction, but she maintained complete and utter power over me. Hearing her beg for my cock reduced me to embarrassingly adolescent levels of excitement. If I could tell my younger self the kinds of things Hermione would plead for me to do to her, I’d never have believed it. I still scarcely believed it.</p><p>"Please fuck my mouth." She licked her lips and placed her palms on her stomach, relaxed. "I've been thinking of making you feel good all evening. Please. I barely made it through the party."</p><p>She was really too good to be true, always had been. I never asked this of her, but she gave it freely and often. I stepped close enough for her to cup her hands around the back of my legs, and I couldn’t decide where to look. The shimmering dragon had an unexpectedly strong pull on my gaze, given the rest of the view.</p><p>"You've been practicing, haven't you? Show me how much you can take."</p><p>Hermione’s tongue licked and teased, but I didn’t wait long to guide myself into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, and I thrust gently at first. I was always careful to give her time to adjust her breathing and relax her throat.</p><p>When she began to make soft humming sounds that signalled she was ready for more, I slipped my fingers into her unruly curls and cupped her head in my hands. I began a slow, deep push and pull. The heat of her mouth and tightness of her throat felt incredible, and I couldn't hold back a groan of pleasure. She liked to hear the effect she had on me.</p><p>"You're taking me so well, love. Ah, Hermione. Your fucking mouth." I paused, giving her a short break to catch her breath, gently brushing away a tear rolling toward the curls at her temple with my thumb. Her eyes watered, but she'd assured me many times that she wasn't actually crying, so I <em>wasn't to stop.</em></p><p>I thrust deeply again, watching in awe - always in awe - as I could see the bulge of my cock in her throat. My left hand left her curls and I rested it possessively on her neck. "You're so good at this, Hermione. So perfect for me."</p><p>She moaned around me, and her hands wandered to her breasts, caressing and pinching her nipples.</p><p>"This spectacular mouth and marvelous throat are mine." My hand on her throat squeezed lightly.</p><p>"Those gorgeous tits you're playing with are mine." I paused on one inward stroke, nearly undone. I stilled and felt her swallow around me in between the soft sounds she made.</p><p>"You're all mine, and you're so fucking amazing. My good girl. My sweet wife, soon." A few more long, slow strokes, and bliss coursed through my body as I came deep in her mouth. She swallowed and gasped as I eased out of her. My hands still cradled her head, and I ran one thumb across her swollen lips as she caught her breath.</p><p>"You're incredible," I panted, bending to give her a deep, upside-down kiss.</p><p>She smiled into my lips and reached one hand up to cup my cheek. "I have gotten better, haven't I? So much better than when we first started that," she rasped.</p><p>Merlin, her voice after a good throat-fucking. Auditory evidence of what she let me do to her.</p><p>"Top marks, darling. O for outstanding." I pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth again, then straightened and retrieved my wand from the dresser. “Up on the pillows, love.”</p><p>She settled back into our bed and spread her legs invitingly. “I want your mouth on me now, Draco.”</p><p>We didn't always play like this, and when we did, "sir" was generally out the window as soon as I got off. Hermione really enjoyed being really submissive - in really small doses.</p><p>“As if you have to ask. I made a show of enjoying that chocolate cake for our guest’s sake, but you know you’re my favorite dessert.” She giggled. “Favorite meal in general, really.”</p><p>“Enough talking, Draco.”</p><p>I whispered a spell and conjured ties that secured her arms and legs spread apart. She smiled up at me.</p><p>"Alright?" I asked, knowing her answer before she nodded. Hermione had long begged me to restrain her while I fucked her throat, but I refused. She needed to be able to use her hands to tell me if anything was too much, since she couldn't exactly say “hippogriff” around a mouthful of cock. She'd pouted a bit. But she was nothing if not logical, and it made sense to her.</p><p>I was more than happy to tie her up while I went down on her, though, and I settled between her legs. My arms slid under her thighs and I gripped her hips, holding her in place. I dropped open mouthed kisses and gentle bites to the insides of her knees and thighs, teasing and nibbling her tender flesh. The sound of her shuddering breath and squirming whimpers were music to my ears. There were lots of ways I liked to hear her beg. She would only take this torture so long.</p><p>“Draco - ah, please...I hope you plan on making me come sometime before my birthday.”</p><p>I laughed against her then, and licked a broad path up to her clit. “You’re a bossy witch,” I murmured, letting my lips move against her most sensitive spot, relishing her wiggle against her restraints. “Have to tie you up so you let me take my time with you.”</p><p>I laved at her with my tongue, knowing she was happy for me to lick and taste her anywhere I wanted, but keeping my hands on her hips for now. There was one place she liked my fingers most during this, and it’d be over as soon as I touched her there. Hearing and feeling her pleasure always went straight to my cock, and I was achingly hard again already, but I wanted to savor this.</p><p>I licked at her soft folds and over her clit as she moaned and writhed above me. “You’re dripping for me, darling.” I lapped at her hungrily. “Positively soaking.” A swipe of my tongue over her clit, then a pause that made her whine. “Such a good girl, letting me take care of you.” Another sweeping pass, then a sucking kiss and a graze of teeth.</p><p>“Draco - I’m close...please.”</p><p>I released my grip on one hip and snaked my hand beneath her, slipping my thumb through her slick fluid. She immediately started keening as I slid it lower, between the sweet cheeks of her arse. I pressed firmly against puckered flesh, massaging pressure enough to tease entry while my tongue stroked her clit with a steady pace. Just the way I knew she liked it. Familiarity bred from a life devoted to learning her as well as I knew myself.</p><p>I felt a pulsing rhythm beneath my thumb as she fell apart beneath me, making my most favorite sounds. I whispered a wandless finite so her hands were free to grip my hair. She pushed me away when she couldn’t handle anymore, and I planted kisses on her thighs and up her body as she panted, catching her breath.</p><p>Each nipple received a gentle sucking kiss, and then I parted her lips with mine, covering her with my body. She still tasted of me, and it never failed to thrill me that she enjoyed tasting herself after I'd gone down on her. She gave a sated hum, but our kiss lingered and heated until she bit into my lower lip. "I know you're ready for me again, Draco. I hope you don't think we're done."</p><p>I eased off of her, sitting back against our plush headboard. "Come on, then," I said, one hand playing with the mass of curls on the pillow next to me, and the other stroking myself lightly. "Come up here, love."</p><p>My lovely witch climbed into my lap, and settled on my cock without preamble, gripping my shoulders for leverage as she slowly filled herself with me. The first delicious slide inside of her made my eyes roll back, and my head fell against the headboard. She eased herself up and down my length at a luxurious pace.</p><p>She looked thoroughly debauched. Her face and chest were flushed and her lips were slick and swollen. The subtle makeup around her eyes had run, and her curls were a tangled mess. She was relaxed and languid and confident. Freshly fucked was one of my most favorite versions of her. This was the side of Hermione that was reserved for me alone, and it was glorious. I drank her in like a man dying of thirst.</p><p>Realizing I'd been neglecting her in my reverie, I swept her curls back from one side of her neck and leaned forward to mouth bruising kisses into her neck. Marking her felt primal, and my cock throbbed as I sucked hard at her delicate skin.</p><p>"Draco!" She was panting again, digging her nails into the back of my shoulders. "People will see."</p><p>"Mmm," I agreed. "I know. I love that."</p><p>She laughed breathlessly, which quickly changed to a moan as I redirected my attention to her breasts. They were gorgeous - no longer as perky as in our youth, but full and bouncing in the most enticing way as she rode me. I sucked and nibbled at one, licked it teasingly, and brushed my thumb in circles over the other.</p><p>I scraped more forcefully with my teeth, earning me a hissed wail before I traded sides. Hermione's nipples were very sensitive, but she liked them handled a bit roughly.</p><p>"More teeth, Draco. Please," she begged. Following Hermione's orders has never failed me, and the clench of her walls around me in response shot electricity up my spine. Tonight wasn't going to be my longest performance.</p><p>"Where do you want to be touched, love?" She'd changed her movements now, rocking in my lap, stimulating her clit on every shift. It wouldn't be long for her either.</p><p>"Mmm. My arse."</p><p>I slipped two fingers into her open, panting mouth, watching her suck them hard, feeling her tease between them with her tongue. I reached behind her and rubbed a firm stroke where she'd asked, feeling her clench around my cock harder. "Enough?" Usually external massage of her arsehole was all she wanted, but sometimes (especially after a few glasses of wine) she was open to further exploration.</p><p>"Inside. Just one. Ooh, yes."</p><p>I shallowly worked one finger inside of her, moving it gently in time with her now-frantic rocking pace. She was beautiful - eyes closed, head back, curls cascading down her back and over her breasts.</p><p>Soon, she pulsed hard around my cock and finger, wrapping her arms around me, burying her face in the crook of my neck.</p><p>I waited for the rhythmic clenching to slow before gripping her hips and thrusting deeply up into her, reveling in the receding waves of her orgasm. My balls were tightening, and I was about to drop over the edge when Hermione began pressing kisses into my neck.</p><p>She whispered, "I love you, Draco. You're going to be the best fucking husband."</p><p><em>Fuck.</em> Husband. I felt an unexpected jolt of pure pleasure at that, and my release started to course through my body.</p><p>She bit my earlobe. "I'm not going to take your name, though."</p><p>I came so hard, laughing and wheezing simultaneously, keeping a firm grip on her hips until I was spent.</p><p>Her body was shaking with silent giggles as I lifted her off of my cock and wandlessly scourgified us both. I laid her back on the pillows and settled in next to her, catching my breath. The love of my life snuggled her curves into the planes of my body.</p><p>"Merlin, witch. I suppose that's alright. My name's already on your arm, anyway."</p><p>We examined our left forearms. The opalescent dragon was in repose, head tucked in, silently snoring. The butterfly was nestled underneath lily of the valley blooms, still and presumably at rest. Both worn out, apparently.</p><p>Hermione cuddled back into me and sighed. "I was mostly just teasing. I'm open to a discussion about hyphenating."</p><p>"My name's yours if you want it, but I'm not bothered if you don't take it. Comes with baggage, I'm well aware."</p><p>That earned me a sharp poke in the ribs. "You know I don't care about that. I'm just the only Granger left. I'm proud of my name."</p><p>"As well you should be. You'll always be Granger to me, regardless."</p><p>Small fingers drummed on my chest. "Let's elope, Draco! Let's surprise everyone. Can you imagine how shocked they would be?"</p><p>"We can do whatever you want. Let's talk about it tomorrow." I stilled her hand with mine. "You haven't even seen your ring yet, love." I stroked her ring finger. "Maybe you'll change your mind."</p><p>She laced our fingers together and pressed three kisses to the back of my hand. "No, I won't. Happy birthday, Draco."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I reblog things on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/roseharpermaxwell">Tumblr</a> sometimes 💚</p>
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